


Powers and Control

by flightinflame



Category: X-Men (Alternate Timeline Movies)
Genre: Charles Xavier in a Wheelchair, Human Experimentation, Hurt/Comfort, Implied/Referenced Torture, M/M, Mind Control Aftermath & Recovery, Partial Mind Control, Protective Erik Lehnsherr, Recovery, Telepathic Bond, Telepathy
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-09-10
Updated: 2020-09-10
Packaged: 2021-03-06 14:41:38
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,412
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26390581
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/flightinflame/pseuds/flightinflame
Summary: Hank and the others turn up at the Brotherhood, asking for Erik's help. They might hate him, but he is the only one who has a chance of rescuing Charles and bringing him home.
Relationships: Erik Lehnsherr/Charles Xavier
Comments: 18
Kudos: 147
Collections: Marvel Trumps Hate 2019





	Powers and Control

**Author's Note:**

  * For [athletiger](https://archiveofourown.org/users/athletiger/gifts).



> Prompted by the wonderful athletiger, who asked for Erik rescuing Charles who is struggling to control his powers.
> 
> Betaed by Ireneadonvan, thank you!

After Cuba, Erik was sure that there were people he would never see again. He dreamed of seeing Charles, of sweeping him into his arms, of proving to him that he hadn't meant to cause pain. Of the two of them working together. He fantasised some nights about Charles realising how misguided he'd been, and coming to understand that it was just them, against humans that would slaughter them - come to realise that it was Erik who could protect him. And in his waking hours, he knew the foolishness of his thoughts - Charles was strong, with a stubbornness that could match his own, and deep down he thought that if Charles did lose that spark, it would be... devastating, in its own way. He wanted Charles back, but he wanted Charles back whole, not destroyed the way that Erik himself had been. And if he made sure there was always a bedroom and bathroom that could be reached without stairs, wherever the brotherhood made their hideout, that was no one's business but his own.

Charles, he dreamed about. Charles, he couldn't believe he had lost, not forever. But the others on the beach that day, those who had stood side by side and turned away the hand he had proffered - he had assumed he would never see them again.

When Hank appeared on his doorstep flanked by Alex and Sean, and without Charles, he knew that it had to be serious.

Hank stared at him, still wearing that blue form that fitted him so well, and bared his teeth. For a moment, he had thought that Hank would turn away. But the man took a deep breath, and looked into his eyes. "Can we come in?"

Erik nodded, leading the three of them through to the Brotherhood's latest hideout - somewhere they never should have found. Mystique looked up as they walked in, and in the kitchen he could hear the clattering of Azazel and Janos making dinner: A chaotic process, but the food was always good in the end. Emma and Angel were off together somewhere else. "Take a seat," he gestured at the eclectic mix of furniture Azazel had stolen. "And cut to the chase. Why are you here?"

"It's because of Charles," Hank answered, and he felt a cold weight settle in his chest, a silent fear that he'd been too late, that he'd lost him forever. Foolishly he had to think that was false - that he would feel it, if something happened to Charles, because of the love between them. "He's been kidnapped."

He was angry then. At the thought that Hank had failed to keep Charles safe - at the thought he had failed to keep Charles safe. He took a deep breath. "Do you know who by?"

"We know who, we know where. But we can't get him back on our own." Hank ground out the words, because it was obviously hard for him, to appear and beg the Brotherhood for their assistance. "Will you help us?"

Mystique looked at him, her yellow eyes full of hurt and fear, and he nodded his head. 

Erik cleared his throat. "My Brotherhood exists to protect mutantkind. We defend our own. If you need us to help, we will of course assist."

"Thank you," Hank muttered, and Sean smiled. Alex alone continued to glare.

"Tell us what you know," Erik demanded, settling back in an armchair as though it was a throne, and mentally instructing Emma to gather the troops. Soon they were all standing there, Azazel with a suspicious smudge of flour on his shoulder. Hank looked between all of them, and then took a slow breath.

"Charles wanted to keep us separate from the government, after what happened in Cuba. He chose to send Moira away, and hide, because he wanted to keep us safe..." As Hank spoke, Erik felt a warmth spark within him at the knowledge Charles had learned, that he had done well. "But he couldn't erase all their records. They knew he was out there. And a scientist... they appeared in the middle of the night. Dozens of soldiers, armed..."

"And you handed him over?" Erik sneered, furious at what he heard.

"We evacuated the fucking kids," Alex snapped. "Maybe Charles could have got himself out if someone hadn't broken his fucking back."

"You left him there?" Mystique sounded broken, and Angel rushed to her side, embracing her.

"We had to. He'd trained us how to get the children to safety. And we managed it, they didn't get any of our students. But we didn't have anyone to get him." Hank looked angry now. "Maybe if we'd had a teleporter, or someone who could destroy their guns, or another telepath... but as it was, us and Darwin were the only adults there and we ... Charles always says that the students come first. That no matter what happens, we keep them safe."

Mystique seems to gather her strength, enough to ask the question Erik can't. "Is he alive?"

"As far as we know. He was trying to keep telepathic contact with me, but then it was cut off. Which is when we came to find you."

For a moment, Erik wanted to ask why Charles hadn't called for him, but the metal helmet he wore even now answered the unasked question. Charles hadn't been able to call him for help because he'd cut Charles off. And Charles had been taken because he'd put saving children before himself. It was the most Charles-like thing Erik could imagine, and he felt almost sick at the knowledge of it.

"You did the right thing coming here," he told them. "We will of course assist in retrieving Charles, and destroying these scientists who dare assume that they are able to harm us."

It was a sign of how very concerned Hank must have been by what was happening that his only response to the threat of violence was to nod. This was a man, a mutant, who had given his all to passing as human, and here he was seeking their help. Erik made himself put all his concern, his fear and pain and hope, aside to concentrate on the facts. He was going to rescue Charles. That was never up for question. The only question was how fast he would manage to do it, and how many humans he would destroy to achieve his goal.

Given the years that had passed since Cuba, it was strange how easily everyone slipped into working together once more. It felt familiar, to command not just his own men and women but also the boys that had stayed with Charles. Charles had made the sanctuary for mutantkind that he'd always talked of, and he had paid for it by being hurt by human men. It didn't take long to track down the laboratory that the scientists were using - not when Charles himself had told Hank the rough location, and Emma was able to shake the rest of the information free from passing humans. 

Once they knew where they needed to go, Erik commanded Azazel to take them there. He didn't have time for careful planning, not after everything, not when he knew he might find Charles lying dead. Charles mattered too much for him to delay. The only important thing in the world was getting Charles away from those who wanted to hurt him.

It was a slaughter. The scientists who had sought to use their kind would never have time to regret it, as they were pulled apart by the sheer strength of Erik's power. Hank hung back - he'd taken some drug that returned him to human form, so that he would be able to do any necessary medical treatment. Normally Erik would have argued against the existence of a drug that was such a threat to mutantkind, but at that moment all he could think about was getting Charles to safety.

Emma found the head scientist before they found Charles, and Erik took his time tearing him apart, as Emma scanned his mind, finally nodding.

"I've got him. There are other prisoners."

"Take Janos and Alex, get them. I have to get Charles." 

For once, Emma didn't argue, just told him where to go. That in itself was a cause for concern - Emma always had a sarcastic comment to make about him and Charles, but today she seemed content to just let him work out his anger.

He followed her instructions, making his way through long cold tunnels, which were achingly cold and startling. This was a bad place. A very bad place, that contained a good man, and Charles should never have been taken. He hurried along faster, knowing Charles was out there. He'd taken his helmet off for this battle, so that Emma could communicate with him, and he knew the moment he was getting close, as pain pierced his mind, almost knocking him over with the sheer intensity of it, a sudden sharp spike. He took a moment, caught his breath, and headed onwards.

He found him.

Charles had been cuffed by his wrists to a chair, his legs limp and helpless. His hair had been shaved off, and there were surgical cuts there that hadn't had the chance to heal. He had a black eye. Erik wanted to scream. The pain in his mind wasn't stopping and he didn't understand how Hank hadn't come to him the moment Charles was taken, hadn't spared him at least a little pain.

But he hadn't. The agony had happened, and all that Erik could do now was try to comfort Charles from an injury that should never have occurred, from so many injuries that never should have occured... He pushed away the memories and the pain, regretting now that he hadn't worn his helmet.

Charles was staring blankly ahead, as though he couldn't see him at all.

"Charles?" Erik asked softly, his voice tender - not to rule, but to care. He would spend however long it took helping Charles, repairing the damage that had happened because of his own arrogance and foolishness. "Charles, are you in there?"

There was a pause, during which time he felt his heart break, and then painfully slowly Charles lifted his head, wincing as a bolt of pain shot through both of them. "Erik?"

“Hello Charles,” Erik said, trying to make his voice tender despite the anger and pain within him. Charles deserved tenderness. Charles deserved kindness, and goodness, and so many things that Erik wasn’t, but right now Erik was all that he could have. “You’re safe now. It’s over.”

The man shook his head, groaning from the pain of the movement, and Erik delicately untangled the metal from about his wrists, concentrating to free him without inflicting any injury. Beneath the bindings, Charles’s wrists had been rubbed raw. He’d fought.

Erik felt bitter pride bubble inside of him, because Charles had tried to stop the humans. “You’re safe now.” He kept repeating that fragile reassurance as he helped Charles into his arms, feeling how light he was, his legs dangling helplessly – and Erik knew that was his fault. The rest of this, he could blame on humankind. But this was on him.

“Where…. Where are we going?” Charles asked, frowning slightly, not looking around. There was a dullness to him that frightened Erik, far more than the injuries – Charles was in there, he knew Charles was in there – but he seemed absent.

“We’re going somewhere you’ll be looked after.”

“No.” Charles hissed the word, and Erik felt his body freeze, pain searing through every inch of him, so harsh he almost dropped Charles. “I can’t… leave me.”

It was strong, the compulsion Charles was trying to force through him. His body and mind ached to just throw Charles down and run, gather his Brotherhood, flee from the area and forget. But Emma had trained him how to resist psychic compulsion. He wasn’t going to give up. He stood still, gathering his strength, calling out for Emma.

There was a burst of smoke, the helmet was placed on his head, and then Azazel left, before Charles would have a chance to grip onto the teleporter’s mind.

Charles looked up at him, those blue eyes brimming with tears, face pale with exhaustion and pain, and still fighting with every breath he took. “You… you shouldn’t have come here, my friend.”

“I couldn’t leave you.”

“Take your people, get out,” Charles ordered, and if Erik hadn’t had the helmet it would have been strong enough a compulsion that he would have obeyed – as it was, he could hear the weakness in Charles’s voice, the way he was trembling.

“Charles?”

“I’m not… I’m not good for anyone right now…I can’t… I can’t control my telepathy. I’m dangerous, to you and to… to everyone. Get. Out.” His voice shook as he gave the order, and Erik looked at him. Charles was weakened, painfully thin, his eyes haunted. He wanted to be left alone, but he wouldn’t be able to cope, not for long at all.

Erik stroked his hand over the top of Charles’s head, where his soft hair should have been. “Charles, I have my helmet. You aren’t dangerous to me.”

Charles whimpered, but he didn’t protest, his narrow grip on consciousness slipping. Erik lifted him up, balancing him carefully in his arms as he carried him away from this hell. Charles deserved better than being trapped here.

Charles let himself get carried, hanging like a rag doll. Azazel teleported the two of them back to base, for once without protesting or complaining that he wasn’t transport – they all knew what Charles meant to Erik. “Get Hank. Then the rest.”

Erik laid him down on the examination table, holding his hand. “Hank’ll be here soon. He’s going to look after you, deal with those injuries.”

“But my telepathy…”

“I can give him my helmet,” Erik promised, and that seemed to be enough, because Charles passed out. Erik stood there, watching him breathe, hoping that he was going to be okay. He wanted to go back and make sure they had hunted down every one of the humans that had done this to Charles, but he knew that right now Charles needed him.

He watched him sleep, shallow breaths the only sign of life as Charles lay there, looking like a butterfly waiting to be sliced up beneath a surgeon’s hand.

Emma walked in, in her crystal form. “He’s giving everyone on base a headache.”

“Have we got Hank?”

“Yes.”

Erik tore the helmet from his head, handing it to her. “Give it to him. He needs to treat Charles.” Even as he did that, the pain started, making him nauseous. Emma gripped his shoulder and tried to guide him away but he snarled at her, not letting her move him. He wasn’t going to be pulled away from Charles, not now, not when Charles needed him.

After a moment, she released him and headed back outside, and not long after that Hank arrived, the helmet in place. Erik could barely see, focusing on gripping Charles’s hand, trying to cling to him. This time, when Emma’s hands grabbed his shoulders and moved him away, he found himself going.

Hank worked for hours, looking after Charles, and Erik waited in the next room. His head ached, psychic pain drilling deep, and random moments and memories flashed before his eyes – his mother’s laughter. The expression of a woman he didn’t know. Shaw sneering down. The lead scientist advancing with a scalpel. Watching himself step away in Cuba. Hank leaning over him in a hospital bed – in the medical room they had now. All of it flickering in and out, his mind aching with trying to contain it.

Emma walked in, and it took a moment for him to realise that she was real, that this wasn’t another one of his hallucinations. She was in her diamond form, and she sat down beside him. “Erik?”

“Yes?” He tried to focus on her. “Emma?”

“I’m here.” She agreed. “You need to move further away, he’s hurting you and you’re no good to us if you are injured.”

“I don’t…” Erik frowned. “I don’t know If…”

She grabbed his hand, pulling him to his feet, and it was a sign of how very lost he was that he went with her, disoriented and unsteady from pain. She moved him a couple of rooms further down the corridor, to the point where some of the sharpness of the memories faded – he could still catch flickers, but it was no longer all consuming, no longer all that he could see or think of.

“Thank you, Emma.” He managed. “Does Hank have any idea what’s gone on?”

“According to the other rescues they’ve been working to use him to identify and control mutants, including our little group. They say he fought like a wild cat. That he tried not to hurt any of them, even if it got him more pain.” There was admiration in her voice there. “We don’t know if he’s still in there, you do realise that. He might be gone.”

“He’s in there.” Erik insisted. “I can feel his memories. He recognised me.”

“He might not be okay,” Emma sighed. “I know how much Charles means to you, but we should just let the boys take him home. We got him out, he’s their problem now.”

“No.” Erik couldn’t allow that to happen, couldn’t pull away from him. Not like this.

She considered for a moment, and then sat down beside him, her diamond fingers interlacing with his own. “Telepaths… they’re strong, Charles is strong. But our powers… when I was a child, it took me a long time to build up my shields, and it was the worst experience I’ve had. Worse than Shaw, worse… worse than anything. Being around people made it worse.”

“You’re saying I’m hurting him?”

“I’m saying anyone is hurting him. His shields have crumbled to dust, and I don’t know if he can rebuild them. Even if he can, it’s not going to be pretty. He’ll see all of your thoughts, everything you’ve tried to hide, everything you want to shelter him from. He’s going to see it. You need to decide if that’s what you want.”

“It is.” Erik answered. “I’m not leaving him.”

Emma hesitated, and nodded. “Come and get some water at least?” Her hand unthreaded from his, cold fingers slipping away, and he felt… if not relief, then something close. Emma had never held his hand before. She’d never seemed the hand-holdy type. That, more than anything, made it quite clear how serious the situation was. Emma knew telepathy, but he knew Charles.

The water helped take away some of his tension. He looked around at the rest of the group that had gathered together. Emma was sipping from a glass of wine, still in her crystal form, and he could see the red path of the liquid down her elegant throat. Janos was curled up in Azazel’s arms, face streaked with tears. Angel was shivering. Alex had his arms crossed, his hands scrabbling at his shoulders as he tried to stay calm. Sean was sat with a couple of little girls, and a gruff looking man, and nearby there were more of the rescues. Mystique was watching them all, her yellow eyes bright with tears.

_Leave._

The word felt sharp, loud. Charles’s voice in his mind, for the first time in so long, and he watched as everyone stood. Azazel and Janos disappeared first, a sharp crack cutting through the air. Angel’s wings unfurled and she turned to the open window. The man took the girls hands and walked away, followed by Sean and the rest of the rescues. Mystique was last to go, pain flickering in her eyes. She didn’t want to leave. But her legs carried her away.

Just Emma and Erik remained.

He could feel the compulsion to leave, but he couldn’t bring himself to, couldn’t untangle his desire to stay there from the need to put distance between him and Charles. Charles needed him. He couldn’t leave.

Emma sighed, taking another sip of wine. “Did he not send you away, sugar?”

“He did. But I… I can’t.”

“You’re going to be useless now, aren’t you?” She asked, and her voice was cold but not unkind. “You know we only have one helmet. If you stay, Hank can’t.”

“I’m going to stay.” He crossed his arms, determined. He couldn’t leave, not if Charles needed him there. “Emma, will you-“

“Take over the Brotherhood in your absence? Carry on the work that we should be doing, rather than playing nursemaid to someone broken? Yes.”

He nodded, and watched as she walked away. The world around him slipped into flickers of memory – his own, Charles’s, and those of others, all tangled out and deafeningly loud. He was tempted to leave. But he didn’t want to leave. He couldn’t leave. He had to leave.

He had to stay.

Hank approached a few hours later, the helmet still on his head. “I’ve done what I can for him. He needs rest, and to be left in peace.”

“Thank you.”

“Where is everyone else?”

“Charles… Charles sent them away.” Erik answered, using his gift to lift the helmet from Hank’s head, and float it over to his own. The moment it was gone, Hank turned and walked towards the door.

Erik stood there panting, trying to get a grip on what was real. As soon as he felt steady on his feet, he made his way towards the room that Charles was waiting in.

He looked somehow even smaller on the hospital bed, swathed in bandages, but his face lit up when he saw Erik. “You shouldn’t have stayed, my friend. I will only cause you pain.”

“I’m not afraid of that,” Erik answered, sitting down beside him. I’m going to try and look after you.”

“What about the Brotherhood? What about destroying humans?”

“I choose you… you established the school?”

“I did…are the students-“

“They’re fine, Charles. They’re fine.” Erik reassured him, glad for the helmet protecting him from the pain that was buffeting his mind.

Charles nodded, collapsing back, exhaustion obvious on his face. “Can I rest?”

“Rest.” Erik agreed. “I’ll go and get cleaned up, make you some food.”

Charles nodded, and let him move away, smiling weakly as Erik stepped from the room. Erik took a few deep breaths, telling himself it was going to be alright, and once he felt a little calmer he tried to think through what to do next.

Emma could handle the brotherhood. He had no doubt at all about that, certain that she would be able to keep control and continue the work they could do. He believed in his cause. But he believed in Charles. He prepared a plate of food, helped Charles eat it, then ran a gentle hand across his wounded scalp before going to shower.

He realised taking the helmet off was a mistake as he felt a sudden sharp burst of pain, accompanied by an urge to get to Charles’s side. He couldn’t resist it, didn’t want to resist it, just fastened a towel around his waist and returned to Charles.

Charles was asleep, his face creased up in discomfort, and there was an urge to gather him close – he wasn’t sure if that urge was Charles’s or his own, but he obeyed it, and once he was settled in Erik’s arms Charles fell still.

Erik had left the helmet in the bathroom.

He tried to peel himself away, to go and fetch it, but every time he tried a solid voice in his mind gave a simple order. _Stay._

He sighed, and settled back with his arms around Charles, trying to find a way to get the helmet to him, to shape a scrap of metal he found – the plug from the sink – into a hook and lift the helmet closer.

It was slow work, especially when telepathic pain burst through him at random moments. But he could do that. Darkness had fallen by the time he managed to float it within grasp, slipping it over his head and feeling a sudden break from the pain.

In his arms, Charles began to shake, whimpering as though he’d been struck.

Magneto, leader of the brotherhood, wanted terrorist and enemy of the state, wouldn’t bow to those soft pained sounds that slipped from Charles’s lips. Erik couldn’t resist it. He moved the helmet away, wincing as Charles’s mind pressed against his own full strength.

Charles’s thoughts seemed to entangle with his own, twisting together, closer and more confused than they had ever been in those few short mornings that they’d spent in bed together.

“Charles?” Erik asked, feeling his own essence and Charles’s own seem to mix, before the sensation skittered away, like oil poured on water.

 _You won’t go?_ Charles asked in his mindscape, his arms wrapping around Erik there as in reality those brilliant blue eyes snapped open.

“I won’t go.” Erik spoke out loud and in their minds, his arms wrapping around Charles. “I came to find you. I won’t leave you.”

Flickers crossed his thoughts – images of the Brotherhood, the day he had walked away on the beach, Charles searching through to try and find evidence Erik would leave. Erik held strong against the onslaught.

“I’ll stay until you’re recovered Charles. Longer, if you’ll have me.”

“What… What happened? The students?” Charles sounded so afraid, and Erik sighed and shook his head.

“Your students are safe. You are safe. Everything is… it’s fine. Some humans attacked you, but I wouldn’t… I came to get you, the moment I knew that you had been taken. You’re safe now.”

In his arms, Charles nodded slowly, and Erik squeezed his hand. He kept up his slow and steady spiel of reassurance. “You did well. You fought, you kept mutantkind safe. You won’t have to do it alone any more.”

“What do you mean?”

“The Brotherhood will work with you, if you want it.” Erik promised, because he was sure that they would agree, that they would understand – that if protecting mutantkind was the goal, keeping the children Charles was caring for protected had to be their priority. “I will work with you. Emma says… she says you’re going to need to rebuild shields.”

“I… you can feel?”

“I feel your pain,” Erik agreed, looking into Charles’s eyes. “I am honoured to feel your pain, Charles. It’s a sign of just how much you achieved, and I will be by your side as you rebuilt those walls. You aren’t going to be alone, not now. I’m here.”

Charles nodded, yawning, his exhaustion winning out over his uncertainty. Erik could feel the way Charles didn’t/couldn’t/wouldn’t believe what he had said. 

The way that Charles wanted to pull away, to protect them - the way Charles wanted to be held. 

He guided Charles to lean back against him. "Sleep. I won't let go."

***

Erik got a little sleep that night - not much, but enough that he would be able to function the next day. Charles slept deeply, when he wasn't waking and calling out in pain. Erik made sure he was there every time, letting him cling to him, withstanding the waves of pain that flooded him as Charles's thoughts swirled around them like a maelstrom. He kept his grip on Charles, led him through to the peace at the eye of the storm itself, feeling Charles shake apart in his arms.

"You can do this," he promised, even if he wasn't sure it was the truth. He said it because he had to. Because someone had to. Charles shuddered in his arms, and tightened his grip.

The next day passed mostly in silence. Charles was struggling to get a grip of his powers, and speaking or moving seemed like too much, seemed to cause new problems for him, memories wearing up, pain twisting around insensate ankles. Erik fed him, and held him, and didn't put his helmet on - not because he couldn't, but because Charles needed him not to.

It seemed to work. By the evening, Charles was able to look at him for a few moments before flinching away at the emotions he could feel. His hands gripped Erik's for strength...

...Erik found himself sat on a beach, watching a little boy trying to make a sandcastle, before another boy approached and kicked it over. The little boy, who had vivid blue eyes, blinked back tears before he started again.

This time, when the bigger boy approached, Erik stepped forwards, sent the boy away.

The blue-eyed boy smiled, and seemed to grow again, to a teenager, and then on - to Charles himself, standing until a wheelchair formed itself from the very sand around him. Charles settled in the wheelchair, smiling and reaching out and gripping the rims, moving it forwards.

Erik wanted to point out that would never work, but before he could he saw what had formed in the place of that child's sandcastle. 

A castle rested on the sand. Some of the walls were crumbling, brick and pebble cascading down, but much of it still stood strong. As he moved closer, it seemed to grow, towering above him, the walls strengthening.

"Charles?"

"My shields," Charles explained. "I need... sometimes, everything I feel...it's so much. I hide. I know it's cowardly, and weak, and all those other things you have accused me of over the years, but...I need it."

"I don't think it's weak." Erik stared up at it. "I think its incredible."

"You aren't mad at me for being captured?" Charles asked, and there was fragility in his voice. As he spoke, one of the walls in the castle seemed to crack. Erik realised his words were causing that crack, and he was determined his words wouldn't weaken Charles again. 

"I'm not mad. I'm amazed, by how strong you are, how well you fought. I'm proud." He walked over to the visual construct of Charles, who still had his hair and looked afraid, and knelt before him. "You pulled me back. Your strength pulled me back, and I stayed. The Brotherhood will protect the school if you let us. I will protect you, if you let me. You aren't weak. You are far from weak..." He reached out, taking one of Charles's hands in his own. "But you are not alone."

"I trapped you, didn't I?" Charles asked, and he sounded ashamed - ashamed of doing what came naturally to him, ashamed of what his powers let happen.

"You got me to stay. And I wanted to stay." Erik insisted. He leaned up, and brushed his lips to Charles's. They'd slept together, on the road, before Cuba. They'd kissed back then. But never in Charles's mind, and never with Charles in his chair. 

Before Erik could have too many doubts, Charles leaned up and kissed him, and the castle grew stronger. 

He opened his eyes, flickering back to reality, and Charles looked at him, holding his hand in this world as well.

"Can I... Can you stay, Erik? I won't hold you back, not this time. Your freedom matters too much. But I'd like you to stay."

In answer, Erik kissed him, and smiled against his lips. He opened his mind up, seeking out the insecurities he knew still haunted Charles. _I'm going to stay for as long as you will have me._

Charles nodded slowly, and he could feel how weak the foundations still were - Charles had learned so many times that hope only brought pain. But he'd kept hoping.

He leaned up, and Erik kissed him softly. "How are the shields?"

"They need a little more time."

"You've got as long as you need. I won't be going anywhere, and when you're ready, we can show everyone just how far you've come. They'll be happy for you, you know?"

"All of them?"

"All of them, I'm sure of it." Erik agreed. "Hank won't be happy about me. But they care about you." Erik swallowed, thinking of how his soul fitted so naturally against Charles's own. He'd let this remarkable man slip from between his fingers once, in a mixture of hubris and fear. He wouldn't let that happen again.

Charles smiled knowingly against his lips, guiding him in for another kiss.

**Author's Note:**

> Thank you for reading! If you have enjoyed this, please leave a comment, it means a lot to me.


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